


Five Moments Mulder and Scully Shared (And One They Didn't)

by skuls



Series: Half-Light Universe [5]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Half-light universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:23:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But it's not going to happen again. It's not going to be the way it was. I promise.”</p><p>(Alt. Title: Five Cutesy Scenes in the Half-Light AU and One Scene That's Not)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Moments Mulder and Scully Shared (And One They Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe i once thought i would stop this universe at pt 1. anyway most of these scenes take place in the half-light au, except for the last one, because i couldn't resist a small ‘my struggle ii’ interpretation. reading ‘half-light’ is not required, but things will be less confusing if u do.  
> there's a small ‘baywatch’ reference but i don't watch ‘baywatch’ so thanks, chandler and joey.  
> this is disgusting and corny im sorry.

**five moments mulder and scully shared (and one they didn't)**

 

**one.**

The lights flash red and blue, reflecting in the puddles of the recent storm. Students run to their parents’ vehicles, shooting looks at the police car pulling out with the convicted janitor, caught going after one of the visitors at that night's assembly. The ambulance left minutes ago, its siren still echoing in the distance. Mulder stands on the edge of the parking lot, trying to ignore everyone.

Scully approaches him, her clinical voice drowned out by the dull roar of what must be half or more of the entire small town in the school parking lot. “The police have confirmed that Wendell Young grew fixated on the victims when he heard the kids learning about them, and he went to their homes and waited for an opportunity to shove them down the stairs,” she says. “He was good at what he did, which is why the police couldn't catch him.”

Mulder holds a hand up to keep her from continuing. “I know what you're going to say, Scully.”

“And what's that?” She's still amused, a contrast from her irritation at flying out to Washington to investigate a case of what they'd thought at the time was a cursed fourth grade classroom who were learning town history right before the people they were learning about died one by one, all from falling down the stairs.

“You're going to say, ‘I knew there was a better explanation for the deaths’.”

She tips her head to the side, studying him like a specimen. “Well, I did.”

Mulder keeps going, words tumbling out like an avalanche. “And you're going to say ‘there's no way a fourth grade classroom could cause five deaths’. You're going to say, ‘Skinner’s going to be extremely pissed, we may be reprimanded again’. You're going to say, ‘Mulder, you're an idiot…’”

Before he can really process what's happening, Scully kisses him fiercely. He sways forward in shock, and brings his hand up to rest on the back of her neck.

It only lasts a second before she comes away with a stunned gasp. Behind her, a kid who had earlier asked Mulder if - and he quotes - he “had the hots” for Scully, bursts into wild laughter.

Mulder smirks a little himself, not moving his hand. “Scully?”

She yanks away, face reddening. “Shut up, Mulder.”

He lets a full grin loose. “Want to go back to the hotel so we can wallow in our embarrassment alone?”

“Sure,” she mutters. “Sure.”

In the peace of their rented car, Scully says fiercely, “I really only did that to take the heat off of you.”

Mulder laughs. “Sure, Scully.”

“I'm serious. Now we can be embarrassed together.”

He reaches down and takes her hand instead of starting the car. “Okay, Scully,” he says, lingering for a second on that fact that this is the first time since they came back from the other place.

 

**two.**

She shoves a stack of boxes to the side and collapses on his couch - _their_ couch, now. “I hate you, Mulder,” she mutters.

He gestures at the clutter of her things along the floor. “Good timing.”

She glares up at him. “You were supposed to get the Gunmen over here to help!”

“Come on, Scully. They said they were busy, and I didn't want to push them. When you live through the deaths of your only friends, you don't want to push them into doing things they don't want to do, after you get them back.”

“Oh, nice. Pull the ‘we spent 23 years in Hell’ card.” Scully props her feet up on the coffee table. “And besides, they aren't your only friends. You have me.”

Mulder sits beside her, and tugs on a loose strand of her hair. “You're a lot more than that, Scully. I could never get Frohike to move in.”

She grins quickly. “Shut up, Mulder. It was time. I never moved back earlier.”

He smiles back. “So this is how you're making it up to me?”

“More or less. Now, come on.”

“What?” he protests as she stands and moves towards the door. “I just sat down!”

“I don't care. We've got to get the bed inside before it gets dark.”

“Who needs a bed? I think the couch serves our needs perfectly fine.”

“Mulder, I'm not having this argument again. Two full grown adults cannot sleep on a couch every night.”

“Hmph.” He crosses his arms stubbornly. “I say we wait for a water bed to mysteriously appear again.”

“Mulder…”

“C’mon, Scully! It could be fun! We could have our own TV show: _Bedwatch_.”

“Mulder. If you want me to sleep here tonight, come and help me move the bed in.”

He grins slightly and follows her outside.

***

“You know,” he says. “All your stuff is here now. You don't have to steal my shirts anymore.”

Scully makes a face at him. “Shut up, Mulder.” She surveys the room quickly before climbing into bed. “What do you think? Does my bed go with the decor?”

Mulder shrugs, moving next to her. “It works.”

The room is quiet before she speaks again, voice sleepy and slurry. “Mulder?”

“Mmm?”

“What do you think it means?”

“What?”

“Duane Barry coming back. The same thing happening as before.”

He wraps an arm around her and she leans into him. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “But it's not going to happen again. It's not going to be the way it was. I promise.”

They fall asleep with their limbs knotted together, and her head against his chest. In the night, she starts to shake and whimper in her sleep. He smooths her hair and kisses the top of her head, stroking her back until she relaxes.

“I love you,” he whispers, but she remains silent, her breathing steady against his shirt.

 

**three.**

Mulder holds up a tiny circlet of intertwined silver. “What do you think?”

She leans forward to examine it. “Are those little _leaves_ engraved in it?”

“It could be a statement as to how much time we spend in the woods,” he replies, already putting it back.

“Mulder,” she says, reaching out and taking his hand. “I don't need an engagement ring. I swear. We're getting married in a few hours anyway. Let's just pick some bands, and get going. My mom and Missy want to take me out beforehand. And I think Ahab wants to talk to you.”

He seems to shudder at the idea of quality time alone with her father, and Scully can't stop the impending smile. It startles her every time she thinks of him as her fiancée, even if it's only for a few more hours.

“Okay,” he says, picking up a gold band and extending his hand towards her. “Okay, but what if we want to get them engraved or something?”

She laughs. “Engraved with what?”

“I don't know…” Mulder studies a display case of rings. “Eternal flame?”

Scully laughs again, loud enough to make a browsing couple’s heads turn. “Mulder, that is the corniest thing I've ever heard. And besides, you're afraid of fire.”

“When did I say that?”

“Pyrokinetic case. The one where your old British girlfriend showed up.”

“Oh.” He looks embarrassed that she mentioned it. “Well. That was in Hell, Scully. Doesn't count.”

Scully rolls her eyes as she studies the display case herself. All the inscriptions seem silly, like they belong to another life. None of them are befitting to what they mean to each other, anyway.

“Scully?” he asks. “You're not seriously considering getting inscriptions, are you? I'm not sure ‘the monsters didn't get us this time’ will fit on a ring.”

Scully laughs once more, because the idea really is silly. She scoops up a gold band that matches the one lying in his palm, and presses it into his hand. “No, Mulder, I was not. I think these work.”

He grins goofily, and slides the band he held onto her finger. “This work?”

She kisses him suddenly, and he stumbles back in surprise. “Perfect.”

***

The new weight is unfamiliar on her hand, but not in a bad way. She grabs his hand and presses a kiss half against his finger and half against his own ring as they huddle together on the steps of the courthouse. The sky is streaked with the dark blue of evening now - who knew it would be such a long wait to get married? The chill of early October bites through the jacket she'd stolen from his dresser drawer that morning. He brushes her hair back and kisses her forehead. They lean against each other, and talk in whispers, as if everyone is listening and they have to hide.

She tries not to think about the past, about what happened in the other place. She tries not to dwell on the fact that this is right around the time that she'd been taken by Schnauz, or the time that Mulder had come across a version of his sister again. She tries not to dwell on the fact that in the other place, she'd be discovering her cancer in a matter of months. She tries not to tell him _you could lose me again so I'm going to do my best to make sure you never have to, I don't want to lose you, I don't want to leave you._

Instead she just tells him, “I love you”, which is probably fitting since it's their wedding night, and he pulls her closer, his fingers pressed into their familiar spot at the small of her back.

 

**four.**

“I can't believe you were right about Skinner!”

“And I can't believe you're surprised. We've never been able to fool Skinner. Or anyone, really. Remember that movie in the other place? Remember Skinner’s face during that one scene?”

“Hmmph.” Mulder hunches over, turning the wheel meticulously to maneuver around a sharp curve.

Scully shifts in her seat to look at him. “You're not still bitter about that movie, are you? Because technically, that never happened. Skinner has assured us that there is no screenwriter friend, and he has never been called, nor does he want to be called ‘Skinman’.”

“No, I'm not bitter about the movie. I'm bitter about Skinner giving us mandatory leave.”

“Mulder. Skinner _very specifically_ told us to stay away from Hal Kinset, suspicion of being a werewolf or not. We're just lucky he didn't sue.”

“Hmmph. We're lucky we didn't get eaten.” He pulls to a stop in the makeshift parking lot, and turns to face her. “You sure you're okay with this? You don't want to get a hotel?”

Scully sighs. “Mulder, this was your idea.”

“Yeah, but it's _our_ honeymoon.”

“We’ve been married for six months!”

“Skinner called it a honeymoon.”

“That's ridiculous. You just want to look for the Mothman, and you brought me along so you don't get, like, carried away or something.”

“So you're admitting there may be a Mothman?”

Scully rolls her eyes, and shoves the door open. “We’re staying here. And this time, we're going to have a fire, so go get some firewood, would you?”

He sighs, kissing her cheek before heading out into the woods. A minute later, he calls, “Hey, Scully? How many sleeping bags did you bring?”

“One.”

 

**five.**

He seems jumpy as he drives, constantly looking back at Scully and William. She supposes she should reassure him that they are not going to disappear.

“You sure we have everything?” Mulder asks. “We don't need to stop and pick anything up?”

“Mulder, we're in good shape,” she says, smoothing William's fine hair gently with her left hand. “Mom and Dad will be in tomorrow, so we'll have a little time to get him settled in.”

“And the room is ready?”

“Yes. Mulder, really, we'll be fine. I've… “ She stops halfway through her _I've_ _done this before_ , sensing it would not go over well. By the look of his eyes in the rearview mirror, he'd already figured out the end of that sentence.

They pull into the long driveway, finally coming to a stop at the edge of the yard. Mulder comes around to help them out of the car, and she doesn't bother to protest. She wants him to be able to experience it all this time.

“Welcome home,” he whispers to William, who doesn't make a sound in reply, but shifts slightly in her arms at the sound of his father's voice.

***

Scully, annoyingly enough, has to call several people and let them know. She calls Melissa, who asks too many questions, and then Bill, who makes a dry joke about “upstaging” him and Tara (since her nephew, Matthew, is apparently another crossover from the other place). She leaves a message at Skinner's office at half-courtesy, half-insistence by Mulder (as a joke, she assumes). They've almost formed a friendship with their old boss at this point.

When she is finally able to hang up the phone, she finds them on the couch, William dozing. She sits carefully so as not to rouse him, muttering a quiet, “Hey”.

Mulder has a look of slight terror on his face as he looks down at their son. She brushes her fingertips across his cheek. “What's wrong?”

“Someone was at the hospital earlier,” he whispers. “I thought he'd come for William.”

Scully freezes slightly. “But it's okay?” she asks plaintively. “Everything’s okay?”

“I think so,” he mutters. “But what if… God, what if I can't protect him, Scully? What if it's not enough?”

“It'll be enough,” she tells him. “It's going to go different. It's going to have a different ending, I swear.”

He won't look at her. William shifts slightly in his sleep, and he freezes immediately.

Scully leans forward and brushes her lips against his cheek. “You're going to be great.”

 

**six.**

The world is ending, but it's a little late. It missed its appointment four years ago, the apocalypse. Mulder can't help but feel a little bitter. He'd been prepared before, ready to go out in the allotted time. Now, there's too much he hasn't finished.

The car door is thrown open, and she comes into his line of vision. “Mulder,” she whispers. “I'm here.”

 _If there is no justice in this world, at least I got to see her one more time._ “He saved your life,” he tells her. “Old Smokey. I suppose I should thank him.”

“We're gonna save your life,” she tells him, and her voice is the warmest it's been in months, a tone he recognizes from years ago, and he has no hope, but her voice could give him some.

**Author's Note:**

> i spend too much time zoning out in religions because i had this idea and plotted out the first scene in class.


End file.
